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The Stories We Can’t Tell

Sometimes not blogging is harder than blogging.

You’re going about your business, just doing your thing, and something happens.  And it blows your mind.  Maybe it’s deliciously ironic.  Maybe it’s so unbelievably stupid that your poor brain can’t even begin to process the epic levels of retardation.  Or maybe it’s a hilarious case of schadenfreude.  Whatever it is, the first thought that pops in your head is, “Holy fuck, did that just happen?” and the second thought that pops in your head is, “Holy fuck, I have to blog about this!”  (Maybe not in those exact words, but the sentiment is there.)

But I can’t blog about it.  Maybe it’s because it would be kind-of mean to someone that doesn’t really deserve it.   Or maybe it would be inappropriate because it would involve saying uncomplimentary things about clients at work, which would invariably manage to get me into trouble.  Or maybe it would mean sharing embarrassing things about people I care about, or embarrassing things about myself that I may regret sharing one day. So whatever the reason, and despite the hilarity or ridiculousness of these events, I can’t blog about them.

And this drives me crazy.  By having a blog, it could logically be reasoned that I am a person who enjoys sharing stories with the others.   These stories just fall into my lap, and I would kill to share them with others.  Seriously, you guys would laugh your assholes off at some of the shit that happens in my life.  These stories bounce around on my tongue and make my fingers itch.  I start writing salacious posts in my head, with biting wit and cutting observations.  I am literally salivating to share these stories.

But as a responsible adult with a conscience, (who very much likes her job!) I can’t share these stories.  Not and live with myself.

And the stories?  They are laid to rest.  Shoved to the back of my mind.  Stashed away in the file marked “Stories I Can’t Tell.”  Okay, so they don’t completely go to waste.  I can still share them with Kyle, of course, and my friends.  But it’s not nearly as satisfying or as fun as it would have been to share the stories I can’t tell with you.

{ 3 comments… add one }
  • Josh April 1, 2011, 10:25 am

    Time for a second blog address me thinks… A more “private” one.

    Bitch, please! I can barely stay caught up with one blog, two would destroy me.

  • gem April 1, 2011, 2:05 pm

    Anonymity is the way to be.

    That was actually a big decision for me when I began blogging. I decided to use my actual identity because I wanted to keep myself honest and accountable. Besides, it’s probably better this way; there’s enough meanness on the internet, I don’t need to add to it.

  • Tim April 7, 2011, 6:46 am

    really enjoyed this post! I feel that I can relate very well and as usual, love to read your writing and inspiration!

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